


Tame

by TW Lewis (gardendoor)



Series: Tame [1]
Category: Highlander: The Series
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-11-08
Updated: 2004-11-08
Packaged: 2017-10-29 05:02:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/316109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gardendoor/pseuds/TW%20Lewis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Adam gives Joe a sensuous massage.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tame

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimers: Yeah, I own them. Would you like to buy a bridge? Man, after reading all the blazing hot sex for [this fest](http://www.livejournal.com/community/onehundredone/), I was gunning to write some hard-core, but this seems to have worked out nicely in the long run. And I think this proves I'm genetically incapable of writing a PWP. Much gratitude to carodee, who did a wonderful beta despite my last-minute request.

If you tame me, then we shall need each other. To me, you will be unique in all the world. To you, I shall be unique in all the world.  
\--The Little Prince

Warm, skilled hands pressed deep into oiled muscles, deftly avoiding the bruises and scrapes on his left side. "You are such a pain in the ass," Adam drawled above him. "I come all the way from Paris on a student's stipend for you to fuck my brains out, and you have the nerve to get hit by a car. A Volvo, at that."

Joe groaned, letting go of the last few weeks of strain as Adam's fingers eased a tight knot and made his spine crackle happily. For years, watching MacLeod had been a dream assignment -- a good man, complex enough to be interesting, who loved traveling to exotic locales, but stayed almost completely out of the Game. But almost overnight, Duncan had transformed from a sybaritic boy scout to a headhunter up to his elbows in the more vicious types of Immortals, and Joe had gone from sitting unobtrusively in cafes as Duncan fed Tessa morsels of French pastries to keeping up with high speed car chases and tracking down kidnappers so as not to miss the Quickenings MacLeod took almost on a weekly basis.

Adam's hands skimmed up to squeeze and massage his arms, and Joe bit his lip to stop the little sounds of pleasure from escaping his throat. "Here's a crazy thought," he moaned, kissing the back of Adam's hand as it came within range. "You could always finish that damn degree you're working on and quit the university; come work in the bookstore with me and Don. You've been there almost ten years, for crying out loud. You're how old now?"

The magic hands stilled for a moment, then moved to play piano across his shoulders. "Yeah, well, I need the student loans to keep me young. Give me a break, Joe, I'm not even thirty yet."

"Yeah, yeah, twenty-nine. I still feel like I'm robbing the cradle. You look like a damn kid."

"And you're as charming as the day we met," Adam mocked him, but there was an edge in his voice. He moved down to release the tension in Joe's lower back, very careful of the bruise that marred one buttock. He leaned down to kiss the bruise, feather-light, then sat up to pour more of the jasmine-scented oil into his hands and draw the aches from the tendons in Joe's thighs and pamper the chafe marks left from Joe's artificial legs.

The question burned the back of Joe's tongue, and he felt Adam sense his worry and try to coax his muscles back into a state of total release. It was a question he wouldn't have felt safe asking five years ago, but now he trusted Adam not to coddle him, not to overreact to any sign of pain. "Do you think I'm getting too old for this Die Hard stuff?" Joe asked.

He could hear Adam's smile, and a well-oiled finger worked its way inside him, a different kind of massage. "I could do without seeing you hurt like this again any time soon. But some things are worth the pain. I think you won't quit until you get to a point where you can't keep up, where things don't get into the Chronicles because you couldn't get there in time. And that's fifteen years off for you, at least." A second finger joined the first, then a third, and then Adam straddled Joe's hips and slid his cock inside him. He leaned forward to continue the massage, his belly and chest making light, teasing contact with Joe's back as he stretched over him, then Adam's hands reversed course and he sat up slowly, making his cock shift and lightly brush that sweet spot inside Joe's body. Then he slid his hands and hips forward again, keeping the same slow pace as though they had all the time in the world.

"Do you have any idea what you do to me?" Adam whispered, almost inaudibly, as he stroked and soothed Joe inside and out. "You don't know how much I wish I could stay."

"When's your flight?" Joe gasped as Adam's touch became a little hungrier, a little more urgent. Adam's cock caressed his prostate, his own cock rubbed happily against the soft flannel comforter, and he felt like he was floating, his whole body melting with pleasure.

Adam ignored the question and leaned forward, his weight on his right elbow to shield Joe's injuries, kissing the nape of his neck as he fucked him tenderly, sweetly. "Love you," he whispered. "Love you, Joe."

"Adam!" Joe groaned, and then his vision grayed out as his cock spurted against the soft flannel, his body clenching and pulling Adam's orgasm into him. The younger man rolled over, pulled Joe into the circle of his arms and kissed his hair. Joe turned his head to kiss his lover's warm, pliant mouth. "Can you stay a little longer?" he asked sleepily, spooning up.

Adam buried his face in Joe's hair for a moment. "I'll stay."

End.


End file.
